The Night I Kept Prince’s Secret

The secret Prince asked me to keep.

One evening the front entrance had been completely blocked off. Something important was happening. But because I worked there, I knew all the back hallways and hidden passageways that wound through the building. I knew how to get where I needed to go.

In the late 1990s, I had a friend who worked at the Supper Club on 48th Street — the beautiful space that is now the Edison Ballroom. At the time my friend more or less ran the place, and I was working there as well.

Eventually I slipped through a back entrance and stepped out into the ballroom.

There were a few VIP banquettes on the main floor — those semicircular tables where six or eight people could sit comfortably. And sitting alone at one of them, just a few feet away from me…

was Prince.

I saw him.
He saw me.

He immediately understood what had just happened — that moment when someone recognizes him.

With complete grace, he simply lifted one finger to his lips.

Shhh.

Don’t give me away.

I nodded back as if to say, Your secret is safe with me.

And then I quietly continued on my way to wherever I was supposed to be going that night. To be honest, I have no idea what happened after that moment, because my brain had basically shut down. I had just seen Prince… made eye contact with Prince… and shared a silent agreement with Prince.

For a few seconds, I had a secret with Prince.

Looking back, I suppose I could have tried to introduce myself. I was a struggling songwriter at the time. I could have tried to start a conversation, asked a question, looked for an opportunity.

But I’m actually glad I didn’t.

Instead, I was able to give him something that must have been rare in his life — a few seconds of anonymity. A moment to sit quietly in a room without the world rushing in.

For a brief moment, I protected Prince’s secret.

And that feels pretty good.

That was the night I kept Prince’s secret.